The Giant She Was by Barbara Carter

In the twisted sheet hours
I unmuffled my head
to decipher my son’s sleep talk
knees banging against his wall          uuugh (a grinding growl)

The doctor says I take notes
at every appointment
just like my mother,          maaaaaaa
a lurching as she is lost
to me, a longing like when my son
said Mama, his first word          maaaamaaaaa
when his stroller couldn’t fit
in my bathroom stall

Three days ago
I crafted a short letter
about my daughter’s health
enclosed a two page report
sealed the envelope and in cursive          fuuuuck
wrote a name

The letter passed from the palm of my hand
to my son’s and then to his father’s
at the basketball game
where my daughter ran
the length of the court
between her two parents
and poured water
from the bottle in my hand
down her throat

I saw him sink
the unopened envelope
into the recycling bin          Yuh! (with an intake of air)
as if I was sucking the words back
Silenced

The other team
a humiliating
slam-dunk.